Imaginary Light
by His Spectacles
Summary: Hey kiddy, let me tell ye a story. Come on, it’s a familiar tale, tha’s a good lad.'


A/N: I posted this one on my new account but then deleted it and decided to post here, so I'm not stealing what is still mine.

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Imaginary Light

_Oh, mistery, misery! Again comes on me  
The terrible labor of true prophecy, dizzying prelude._

_- _Cassandra (Agamemnon by Aeschylus)

* * *

Oi.

Oi.

Aye, aye, you, I won' hurt ye. Closer, ye can't hear me from tha' distance.

Hey kiddy, let me tell ye a story. Come on, it's a familiar tale, tha's a good lad. Do ye know about Cassandra, kiddy? You don'! Why, Cassandra was the great prophetess! A seer! Bit o' bad luck for her, though, no one believed a word she said. A curse by the God Apollo, ye see. They go on cursin' and condemnin' whoever they like, these Gods.

But tha's not my story. No. No. Do you believe in magic, kiddy?

No, I don' think you would. But aye, magic is as real as ye and me. A bit more real for some, 'course, and they're stuck up about it. Won' tell you Muggles, tha's for sure! Never mind wha' tha' means. Come, kiddy, don' let an old woman shout at ye. Ye'll be wantin' to hear my little story! Kiddies always like my stories.

Where should I start? Ah, I know! The boy…a kiddy like you, small and skinny. He's magic, you see, but he doesn' know it. Right fool his relatives are, hopin' they'll bully it out of him. But no, this kiddy has a destiny, and he'll be knowin' it when he's of age. But now he's just a kiddy, see, and he doesn' know 'bout his world. His _parents' _world, since they're dead and all, poor mum and dad. Killed, I tell you, murdered by a dark lord. Aye, this tale ain' for bedtime, kiddy, but it's specially for ye. Don' be scared now, hold still.

Now this kiddy, he's turnin' eleven, see, and eleven's a special age when ye'r magic. Ye get a letter, a letter from a school o' magic – and how old are ye, kiddy? Ten! Well, ye'll be expectin' ye'r letter in a year, ha ha! – and there, a magical kiddy will learn 'bout spells and curses and history. But this kiddy's relatives are afraid, see, and so they don' give him his letter. _Fools, as if they can stop the boy's destiny; it's been set in stone for ages! _There, there, don' look at me like tha', kiddy. Where was I?

So, the kiddy's stupid aunt and uncle – ah, ye live with yer aunt and uncle? hope they're not fools – take him away where the letters won' follow. But they follow anyway, 'cause they're magical, until one night when a half-giant barges in their home and gives them all a fright! Ho, ho, but this half-giant is carrying a letter – finally, a letter for the kiddy to read!

And the kiddy is a wizard, see! He's made of magic, such beautiful magic. But tha's not all. See, his parents died – yer parents dead, too, kiddy? Car crash, ye say? Interesting ha ha ha – but as I said, they we're killed by a dark lord, but the kiddy doesn' know this. He'd thought they died, eh, _naturally_. Seems like there's a lot the kiddy doesn' know and so he goes with the half-giant to this wondrous alley, see, full of magic and magic stuff. The kiddy buys his robes – bit drafty, those – and his books and a snowy owl for deliverin' letters and a wand. Now this wand is special, but the kiddy doesn' know it yet. Are ye still followin' me? Ye are? Good, good.

Term starts on September 1st, ye know, like regular school. Only, magic school is different. Ye ride a scarlet train to an enchanted castle far, far from here. Aye! It's huge and protected and a dark forest surrounds it. There everyone is magical, the students, the professors, the house elves, see. Food appears on the tables by _magic_, aye. The kiddy, well, the kiddy doesn' exactly feel at home in the castle. Not really, when the kiddy is still so _different. _You see, the kiddy is special. Remember the dark lord? Remember? _Don't you ever forget the dark lord. _Well, the dark lord was there to actually kill the kiddy, not his parents. There was a – well, no use tellin' ye this part, ye won' understand. Let's just say the dark lord went to kill the kiddy but _couldn'_. He couldn' and this dark lord was powerful beyond belief. Instead, the killing curse – avada kedavra, ye know, sounds a bit like poetry, aye? – bounced off the kiddy and made the dark lord disappear. Not dead, _he is only gone and don't you forget this, too_.

Ha ha.

And so, the kiddy is famous! Famous in his magical world and they call him a special name. Ye think, don' ye, that it's nice to be so popular. But no, no, the kiddy has too many expectations on his head because of his scar – aye, a scar, a curse scar, kind of like yer's, kiddy – and there are those who treat him as if he likes it. Ho, but the kiddy doesn'! Ye want to know why?

_Because you-know-who will always return with the seven safely hidden away. _

See, every year, the kiddy always nearly dies. He's got enemies, tha' one. Poor kiddy. _So much pain, such unbearable losses._ Is he goin' to die in the end, ye ask? Well, well, ye'll have to figure it out for yerself, kiddy. Do ye think he'll die? _It's been whispered by one like me but isn't me and the old man was there to hear it, and the boy, too. The boy who went to his master and sang like a canary. _Ah, but let me tell ye a secret, kiddy. Come now, give me yer ear. Aye, like tha'. Ha ha.

Kiddy, oh innocent kiddy, _neither can live while the other survives. _Aye, heed me well, kiddy. Don' let Apollo come between us now. _Listen to me_ because aye, tha' scar on yer forehead?

Why, it's a lightnin' bolt and _the dark lord is comin', kiddy!_


End file.
